Everything You Are
by ImpassionedWriter
Summary: Dean hasn't seen Castiel since graduation five years ago. Now his former best friend has returned and Dean finds himself caught in the whirlwind of temptation that tore them apart in the first place. /AU
1. Chapter 1- Lover Come Back

_This story is for Countess Impossible, the light that leads me to the hidden world of Supernatural slash fics X3 I LOVE YOU AND I WANT TO HUG YOU IN A SEMI-NON-CREEPY WAY! _

_o_o Okay, then. On to the story!_

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**Chapter One: Lover Come Back**

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Dean sat on the very edge of the bed, leaning over, his shoes planted firmly on the scuffed floor boards. Stress turned his knuckles white while he gripped his dark hair in frustration. The harsh pounding of his heart was the only sound he could hear.  
It seemed like his own body was against him, muscles tensed, restless energy threatening to rip him apart so his soul could escape.

If only he could escape.

The painful rhythm pulsing through him was most likely the result of a brutal hangover and the unrestrained act of love-making he had engaged in last night. Every part of him ached and it took his last ounce of strength to lift his head up from where it rested, chin pressing into his chest.

He looked across the room at the door, still locked and closed tightly. It was hard to decide whether it was designed to keep him inside, or bar the way from the thing he wanted most. The one person he had ever been in love with.

The gravity of exhaustion was a steady force that kept him pinned where he was. But the dead tired weight that grounded his body could do nothing to calm the wild thoughts racing through his mind.

Only hours before, when the night was young and the darkness was dominating everything, wiping out all common sense, knocking down all boundaries, Dean had gone to bed with someone. Someone who meant more to him than the entire world.

They fell into bed under the influence of alcohol, made love, and now Dean awoke to find himself alone. The bed was empty but for him.  
He had bolted up and gotten half-dressed before realization dawned.

_He had been abandoned._

And not just by anyone- Castiel Novak was Dean's best friend. They went through middle school and took on high school together. Just yesterday they had graduated with flying colors and were ready to face the world together.

Everyone that knew them, knew they were inseparable. It was taken for granted that Dean was always with Castiel, and Castiel was always with Dean. And, although their relationship was often under scrutiny, no one expected it to change.

But it had.

At the after-graduation party, Dean and Castiel partook in a drinking contest, even though Castiel rarely drank, and downed more shots than either could count. They lost track of time and were soon heading back to the boarding room they shared. It felt to them as if time were at a standstill; that the night could go on forever.

And, at some point in the midst of the excitement and laughter, Dean had been overcome with the sudden urge to take Castiel's perfect smiling mouth with his own. Neither of them knew what took over next. But the feelings that flooded their minds and hearts were all they could focus on. Everything else was lost.  
Things escalated quickly and they made love three earthshattering times before collapsing in a haze of heavy limbs and blinding euphoria.

Then Dean awoke.

He didn't even remember falling asleep. One minute he was lying next to Cas, breathing in his sweet whispers. The next, he was reaching out for a lover that was no longer there.

The sheets beside him were cool, leaving Dean wondering if maybe he dreamed it all. Then he saw the note. Placed with care on the dresser beside the bed.

Dean's hand shook when he reached for it, the cold dread tying knots in his stomach. There was nothing he could do to stop the hot tears from falling as he read:

_._

_Dean,_  
_You will probably not remember most of last night... But if you do, then know that I am sorry._  
_You are my best friend and I didn't mean to take things this far. I'm sorry if I hurt you._  
_I'm on my way now to find that adventure we always talked about. Take care of yourself. Don't worry._  
_Please forgive me._

_Cas._

.

The ink blurred and seeped along the page with the tears Dean shed. His fist tightened around the letter and anger washed over him. He wished he could wipe those words from the face of the earth. He wished he had never read them. He wished he hadn't fallen asleep and let Castiel slip away. And he wished that he had never started this in the first place.

Castiel was the best- and only- friend he ever had. Their friendship was the deepest bond Dean had ever formed. And he had broken that. He burned everything down when he opened that forbidden door and pushed Castiel through it.

And in that moment, for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester realized that he was in love.

And it was all over. The same reason he discovered the truth was the reason it was all impossible.

That broke Dean inside.

Sure, it could have been merely lust for a while there; especially those moments in the beginning when it had been about getting _more_. More contact, more flesh, more skin against skin friction.

But it was those moments afterward; after all the passion and heat. That peaceful, blissful silence when all they wanted to say, all the things they felt, was known in the sound of their breathing and pulses racing just beneath their skin. It was then that Dean experienced a revelation of astounding proportions and staggering clarity.

He was _in love_ with his best friend. He was in love with Castiel.

Maybe he had always been and never considered it before now. Maybe Castiel was in love with him, too. Surely there was more motivating his responses than alcohol. There had to be some kind of longing behind his actions other than lust-driven desire.

And when they were roused from the deliciously fevered cloud of sleep by the dawn's bright rays, they could admit it to themselves and to each other in the simple act of snuggling closer and creating a whole new warmth from the love in their hearts.

But Castiel was gone. Long gone. Dean had searched the entire room, only to find it devoid of all of Castiel's belongings. Not a single thing of his remained. It was as if he had never been there in the first place.

...

Five years had passed since Dean left his home town to start a new life.

Things hadn't gone very well for him in the months after graduation. His half-brother, Sam, had been put in rehab for substance abuse. His dad had died of a heart attack, leaving his step-mom all alone. Being confined to a wheelchair, she was unable to pay the bills. They sold their house and she moved in with her sister.

Dean had offered to stay around, get a job, and support them. But, being a firm believer in following your dreams, she encouraged him to venture out into the world and 'discover' himself. He obeyed, even though he thought it unnecessary. He knew exactly who he was. He was a soulless, heartless waste of a life.

Ever since _that night_, his relationships never lasted longer than the time it took to go to bed and satisfy his lust. Any longer than that and his hunger for something else pushed them away anyway.

He didn't want to deal with that. He didn't want to hurt other people. And no matter what he did, he felt empty inside.

In place of his heart, there was a black hole. A dark emptiness that receded only when he drowned himself in every vice he could think of. But he was never cured, only distracted from the pain that made him want to end himself and this torment.

But he would never kill himself. There was another force preventing that. A shining glimmer of light in the middle of his pitch black heart. And it was hope.  
Hope that, someday, somehow, things would get better and he could smile for real again. He could love someone again.

For now, however, he had to survive on the cheap smiles and bitter liquids of whatever bar he happened to be close to.

As usual, he wore a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and his traditional leather jacket. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he had taken previously and stuck up in an unruly fashion. Despite this, none of the girls could keep their eyes off of him when he entered his pick-up locale of the night.

It was a lovely establishment full of painted up hookers and rowdy men. Dean recognized the song blasting from the speakers as _Dove&Grenade_ by Hollywood Undead. Not something _he_ listened to, but Sam had introduced him to them before, and it seemed to suit the mood perfectly.

He sauntered to the bar and leaned against it, scanning the clientele for a worthy bedfellow. There were a few blondes that looked down for a romp.

Sultry red-head in the corner.

_Black haired man in a booth._

Dean's blood ran cold. He didn't know what his expression looked like, but it probably betrayed the anxiety he felt.

The man was talking animatedly, illustrating some details with his hands. His movements were foreign, but after five years Dean couldn't be sure. Not from here. Dean watched him for several minutes, waiting for him to turn around. Finally, he addressed the waitress and Dean could see his face.

It wasn't _him_.

The disappointment took Dean by surprise and he had to sit down. The sheer force of it took his breath away. He was going to have to recover his composure quickly if he planned to seduce any of the patrons.

Suddenly he heard something that shook him to his core.

"Dean Winchester?"

The voice came from behind and he slowly turned around to face its owner. His eyes widened as he recognized the raven hair and blue eyes. The tall lean form and long coat. The searching gaze and perfect, parted lips.

It was Castiel.

If Dean hadn't been sitting down, his knees would have buckled beneath him.


	2. Chapter 2- Snow Angel

_I hope you are enjoying your present so far, my darling BFF! :D Get ready, things are about to get heated up in this chapter!_

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**Chapter Two: Snow Angel**

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They sat side by side at the bar, a wall of uncertainty and awkward memories between them. Every second the silence dragged on gripped at Dean's heart. He was no longer worried about picking up anyone. Not in the least. He wasn't worried about anything right now. Except for the fact that he felt more emotions in this moment than in the last few years combined.

It was like none of the last five years had happened. They graduated, parted ways, and met up again in a time span of minutes.

How was any of this possible? What were the odds of running into Cas here, now? Or at all for that matter. There were billions of people and trillions of places. And they were in the same place at the exact same time.

It was like fate.

_Whoa, hold on there, Dean. Don't let your foolish hope run away with you. You don't even know if he still wants to talk to you after what happened._  
_Wait. Why do you want to talk to him? _He's_ the one that left. He couldn't even tell you to your face that it wouldn't work. He ran away._  
Don't_ let him come back into your life and control you. Don't give him that chance. He has no power over you anymore_.

Dean forced himself to swallow and sat up straighter, picking up the beer that was set in front of him and pressing the cool rim to his lips.

Castiel chose that moment to speak. "So what brings you here?"

Dean couldn't help the involuntary choke when he heard Castiel's deep voice. As smooth as chocolate and twice as tempting.  
It struck a chord in his soul.

He was unsure of how to reply. Quite frankly, he wasn't even positive where *here* was. He had become a drifter in recent months, moving through states like wind through the trees. He couldn't come up with a good answer so he shrugged and preoccupied himself with taking a long drink from the beer bottle.

Castiel eyed him, his face a mixture of confusion and caution.

Although Dean was careful not to show it, there was a wave of happiness building in his chest. Castiel was here, sitting beside him. This beautiful, stunning man was talking to him. Made love to him. Called out his name in the throes of passion.

_But that's over now remember?_

Right. Castiel had left him.

Yes... He had left him for dead; not caring what happened to him. Giving up everything they had. ...It was pure chance that they even met here.

Why did Dean have to remind himself of this? Why couldn't he be angry at Cas? Why couldn't he make himself stop feeling so giddy every time he looked at him?

Stop. Girling. Out.

Forcing himself once more to swallow, Dean swiveled around on the bar stool, bracing his elbows against the bar. He tried to look anywhere but at the man beside him.

Still, those electric blue eyes trained on his face made his skin tingle.

Castiel brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His gaze went past Dean, staring somewhere along the wall.

"What do you say to getting out of here?" He asked. His voice betrayed no ulterior motive but Dean took his time in answering.

He wanted to be civil. He didn't want his resentment for the past to lead to wasting this chance.  
Not that he thought this would change anything; he wasn't that optimistic. They had already made their choices. The past was past. And it would stay that way.

"I don't know of any other bars around here... But we can go anyway."

There was a mounting tension in the pit of Dean's stomach as they stood and made their way to the door.  
Usually he was full of confidence. He could deal with any situation. But now... He had no idea of what to say or do. He was completely lost.

They stepped past the overly muscled bouncer and slipped out into the cold November air. Dean pulled his collar closer and lifted his shoulders against the chill. Puffs of white air swirled through the night as they breathed.

Castiel didn't seem the least bit affected by the low temperature. But then, Dean remembered, he had never been bothered by the cold.

When Cas started walking, Dean fell quickly into step behind him, casting a parting glance back. They were heading away from the parking lot. Dean had no clue where they were going, but, for the most part, he trusted Castiel.

Which was stupid. Castiel was the one that had broken his heart. He left Dean all alone just when he needed him most.

Just when he realized exactly how much he needed him.

They kept a steady pace for several minutes until Cas finally came to a stop in front of a short square building. Most of the windows were dark, but a few glowed brightly in the dim fog that crept through the street. From here, Dean could hear a few muffled voices. They seemed to be partaking in his favorite past time.

He flicked a wary glance at Cas and found him leaning against the wall, beneath an awning, lighting up a cigarette.

He motioned to an empty bench beside him and Dean slowly walked over. When he sat down, he nearly jumped right back up again. The bench was ice cold and his clothes provided no defense.

"Where are we?" He asked, rubbing his hands together. The tips of his fingers were already starting to feel frozen.

Castiel blew out a long stream of smoke and replied, "My hotel. I booked a room for the night."

Dean nodded once before frowning at him suspiciously.

Castiel laughed but made no attempt to deny any implications.

With Castiel's attention otherwise occupied, Dean turned his thoughts inward.

His emotions were a tangled mess inside his chest. He knew one thing for certain, though. Castiel had better not be expecting anything from Dean tonight because he sure as hell wasn't going to waltz back into his life for one spin in the sack and then disappear again. But he was certainly different than Dean remembered him. Or maybe he was exactly the same. It was hard to tell when neither of them was truly opening up to the other.

But even without any major interaction, Dean couldn't deny his attraction to the other man.

...So it really hadn't been about sex at that time; at least not entirely. Because love, unlike sex, never falters or fades away. As much as Dean wished it did... He still felt the same way about Cas as he had all that time ago.

So what was he doing here? This was all too confusing.

"Well?"

Dean blinked and refocused on Castiel. "What?"

"I asked how you've been?"

"Oh..." Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. What should he say? Would it do him any good at all to share the truth?

"Are you all right? You look cold." Castiel's brow furrowed in concern, but a gentle smile spread across his face. He leaned forward to get a better view of Dean's face and Dean couldn't keep himself from taking a shamefully long look at the exquisitely formed body before him.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, it's below fucking zero out here." His voice was huskier than he wanted it to be when he met Castiel's blue eyes.

"Do you want to go inside then?" The question was framed with an easygoing laughter; but there was something else here, too. A cautious undertone and something Dean couldn't identify.

"No..." Dean's voice was obviously shaky. He was reluctant to go anywhere near Castiel's room while he was feeling this unsure of himself. This overdue reunion left him too vulnerable. He couldn't put much faith in his self control right now and he knew it.

Castiel tilted his head to one side and took a drag from his cigarette.  
"Come here, then." his words were formed and painted in smoke, a cloud of it following, released from his lungs in a lengthy exhale. He held an arm out, beckoning for Dean to join him.

The temperatures biting grip chased away any thoughts of declining the invitation and he practically jumped to Castiel's side.

The warm, heavy arm that wound around his shoulder, pressing him into him, sent a shiver down Dean's spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Quite the contrary. A delicious heat swept through his body, gathering just below his waist.

_Oh, shit._ He realized just how dangerous this was.

Snow started to fall from the empty black sky, sailing down to meet the sidewalk.

Castiel's chest swelled beside Dean as he took the last breath from his cigarette, tossing it aside.  
Their closeness was comforting, and yet so completely unsettling. Dean's stiff posture only increased the awkwardness of Castiel's embrace.

But... from here he could almost feel the other man's heart beating.

_Oh... Heart, what secrets do you hold?_

The shift in position was almost too quick for Dean to register. But when his senses caught up to his surroundings, he was surprised to see Cas in front of him, hands planted into the wall on either side of his head. The brunette's lean body was only a hair's breadth from Dean's. He could feel the warmth radiating from the man's skin.

It was a more beautiful scene than any artist could ever have dreamed of. Castiel's pale face and blushed cheeks, his dark hair falling across his forehead. Snow flurries dancing in the background, haloing the man before Dean in a white glow. Like he was an angel.

Every nerve in Dean's body was on fire. He was brutally aware of the sexual energy that pulled him to Castiel; like gravity. It was unstoppable and clouded all the little voices in his head protesting this and begging him to stop.

But he couldn't.

Castiel watched Dean's reaction carefully. He didn't want to push the other man into something he didn't want.

But Dean's expression was practically one of begging. And Castiel wanted more than anything to give him what he wanted.

In an instant, their bodies met and Castiel's mouth covered Dean's, fully consuming him. His tongue traced Dean's bottom lip, requesting entrance. Dean granted it and lost himself in the taste of Castiel. He carried the scent of smoke and the heat of fire and Dean grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him closer.

All the warnings in Dean's mind were drowned out by the sounds of need escaping his throat.

Castiel wound his hands in Dean's dark hair. He pushed him into the wall and moved their hips together in a rhythm that had Dean moaning.

Castiel uttered a low growl in response. He broke the kiss for a moment and Dean barely had time to catch his breath before their lips met again.  
Their touches were all lust and desperation. The only sound in the still dark night was their fevered panting and pleading moans.

Somewhere deep down, Dean wondered about Castiel's incentive. He knew that in the morning, he would regret not asking or stopping the other man's advances.

But right now he didn't care. It didn't matter.  
All that mattered was that Castiel was here and that Dean was living the very thing he had dreamed about for so long.

He had been given another chance.


End file.
